


Stupid Sisters, Sing-a-Grams, and Texts

by stilestlinski (derheck)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Texting, M/M, Modern AU, Texting, and merlin is a sing-a-gram, and there are many confused feelings, in which the boys are oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derheck/pseuds/stilestlinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh Arthur dear, please listen,<br/>If you keep holding it in,<br/>I fear your bollocks might explode.<br/>Boom, boom, boom.</p>
<p>Ohhhh, my dear, dear brother,<br/>It’s time for you to have the sex-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay, okay, stop!” Arthur shouted, feeling that his face was probably redder than a fucking tomato.  “Please.  Just stop.  Come- come inside,” he begged, praying that none of his neighbors heard the singing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In which Arthur is attracted to the sing-a-gram his sister sent him (who he keeps running into) and is at the same time forming an emotional connection to the stranger he accidentally threatened via text.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Arthur Threatens a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a short, sweet fic, but it evolved into something else altogether. Not sure yet how many chapters it will have, but I'll try to update a new chapter everyday. Also most likely they'll be unbeta-ed because this is more of fun thing I'm doing to get over the pain of the show's finale. This isn't my first Merlin fic, but it is the first one I've published. Also I apologize in advance if there are any mistakes in the texts, but I'm using the first text generator I found and I have to make a new picture every time and it's a pain, but I'll figure something out. I should add, btw, that the numbers are generated as well, so I don't know if they're real or anything.

_Today had actually started off as a really good day_ , Arthur thought, trying very hard not to cry.

He had waken up on time, precisely at 6:45 am, allowing him to shower and make himself some breakfast (a very healthy bowl of oatmeal) and change into his blue suit and red tie.  He was in such a good mood that he decided to treat himself to a muffin and coffee, which he ended up getting for free because “his smile had made the cashier’s day” or something.  It had seemed like today was going to be a fantastic day.

_So why_ , he wondered now, _was it suddenly beginning to go badly?_

He was debating his choices of a) screaming, b) crying, and c) drowning himself in the fountain he’d just dropped his phone in.

Well, 'dropping' his phone made it sound as if it was his fault.  And it wasn’t.  He had merely been checking his work email (not really watching where he was going) when some idiot on a bicycle had crashed into him, sending his phone flying.  At that point, Arthur could only watch in horror as his phone sailed through the air, and he prayed that it wouldn’t fall into the busy street.  

Fortunately, his phone _didn’t_ fall into the busy street.

Unfortunately though, his phone fell into a fountain a few feet away from the busy street.  

Actually, now that he thought about it, he seemed that option d (hunting down the idiot on the bicycle that took one look at Arthur’s angry face and ran) would be best.  

The only good thing right now, was that Arthu wore a watch (not depending solely on his phone for the time) so at least he now knew that he was ten minutes late for work.  Which was absolutely wonderful.

Groaning, he made his way to his office, not bothering to fish his phone out of the water.

_Fuck, today is going to be a terrible day._

\--------

Arthur came home from work at 10:20 pm, having to go overtime to make up for the lost files he’d been working on on his mobile.  Which for some reason had not saved.  He’d almost started crying when he found that bit out, but merely took a deep breath and chugged his by then lukewarm coffee.  After work, he'd stopped by his phone carrier to pick up the new one he had (made his secretary) order.  He figured that he might as well upgrade and got the newest iPhone, the girl there had gone ahead and set up so that he could and use it as soon as possible.

He loosened his tie and made his way into the kitchen, opening his fridge to see if he had anything to eat.  He’d skipped dinner in favor of working, so he was starving, and honestly even those nasty chinese leftovers looked appetizing right now.  He was just about to decide whether or not he wanted to risk food poisoning or not (he was going for risking it), when his doorbell rang.  Grumbling, he went to answer the door, too tired to wonder who the hell it could be this late at night.

He honestly didn’t know what to expect, but he was not expecting a pale, black haired young man with a balloon bouquet.  He was gorgeous, plain and simple.  Tall ( only a bit taller than Arthur), pale, and lanky.  His black hair curled slightly around his ears-  if they _were_ ears.  They were huge, but made him look completely adorable.  And his eyes- a deep, beautiful blue that him want to start writing poetry about them.  He was dressed in khakis, and a blue uniform shirt that did wonders for his eyes.  Arthur chose to ignore the tacky red neckerchief he was wearing, though.

 Arthur groaned internally; the guy was fucking perfect.  

“Uh, do you know a Morgana Pendragon?” the guy asked, his blue eyes looking at him warily.  Tired no doubt, it was pretty late.

“Yes?”  Arthur answered, confused.  Hearing his sister's name, he suddenly became frightened. 

“Okay well, she asked me to give you a message.”  He held out his hand, giving him the balloons.  He took a breath and began to sing, to Arthur’s absolute surprise.

 

“ _Oh, dear brother I’ve been worried,_

_You haven’t been yourself._

_You’ve been crabbier than usual,_

_And you’ve working oh-so late._

 

_Now I only have one thing to say,_

_Which comes from the bottom of my heart:_

_Ohhhh my dear, dear brother,_

_Please do all your friends a favor,_

_Hire a hooker and get laid._

_Go to a fucking hotel room,_

_With a hooker, maybe two,_

_Let me say no one would blame you, oh no no._

  


_Oh Arthur dear, please listen,_

_If you keep holding it in,_

_I fear your bollocks might explode._

_Boom, boom, boom._

_Ohhhh, my dear, dear brother,_

_It’s time for you to have the sex-”_

 

“Okay, okay, stop!” Arthur shouted, feeling that his face was probably redder than a fucking tomato.  “Please.  Just stop.  Come- come inside,” he begged, praying that none of his neighbors heard the singing.

“Sorry mate, I’ve got to finish the song.  It's part of the job,”  the guy said, looking a bit sheepish.  “I’ll be quick if you’d like.  Your sister paid me a load of money to be on ready for when you came home and she’s paying me a lot of money now to sing this to you.”  He opened his very kissable mouth (and no Arthur was totally not checking out the sing-a-gram, oh jesus christ Morgana really knew his type) as if to continue singing, but Arthur cut him off again.

“ _First of all_ , I am not your mate.”  Arthur took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.  “Second, I won’t tell anyone you didn't finish, hell I’ll pay you fifty quid to stop right now,” Arthur told him, starting to pull out this wallet.

The guy huffed in amusement, making Arthur look up.  “Don’t worry about it.  You’re actually doing me a favor, the song is pretty long.  And there’s a bit in there about getting it on with the sing-a-gram,”  his face looked really embarrassed at that.  

Arthur blushed harder, if possible.  He gaped at the guy, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll show myself out, then,” he said after a minute of awkward silence.  He turned to leave and Arthur wanted to say something (like ‘I’d love to get it on with the sing-a-gram’) but sadly the guy left before he could even open his mouth.  No doubt terrified of Arthur, who no doubt looked very pissed off.

Which reminded him.  

He got out his new phone (which he _still_ wasn’t used to) and sent a quick and angry text to his sister.  At least he thought it was his sister- he couldn’t remember if it ended it 67 or 76.  

He was pretty sure it was 67, though.  

Positive, actually.

  


He wasn’t expecting a response, it was much too late for her to be up.  But still, it’d be a good morning text to wake up to.  He should actually be getting to sleep himself, he mused. However, his stomach growled, disagreeing.  He sighed, making his way back to the kitchen, where leftovers awaited him.  His phone buzzed, though, notifying him of a text message.  Hmm, so it seemed Morgana _was_ awake.

 

Definitely not Morgana.  The girl who set up his phone assured him that his number would be the same.  Plus Morgana would one, know what he was talking about, and two, not use more than one question mark.  Then he realized, _oh God.  He’d just threatened a stranger._

Right.  So Arthur managed to come on as an aggressive, very pathetic stranger with sister-issues.  Fuck.  

Hopefully the stranger _didn’t_ sue him.  Hell, Arthur didn’t even know if you could sue someone because of a threatening text.  Either way, he figured he could get some amazing lawyers so that he wouldn’t actually be sued.

Damn, he needed some rest.  But before he could even think of sleeping, he needed food.  Before the stranger had a chance to respond (Arthur didn’t even know if the stranger would text back) Arthur scarfed down the leftovers, not bothering to heat them up. His phone buzzed again, and Arthur checked it while in mid-chew.

Well, that was a weight off his shoulders.  He expected the stranger to leave it off at that, but as he finished off the leftovers (that had in fact, been pretty nasty) his phone buzzed again.

Arthur knew he shouldn’t answer.  It was a stranger, someone he didn’t know.  This could end really, really horribly.  His every instinct told him not to answer, to just ignore the text, it’s not like he knew the person. It’s not like he owed the person an explanation, he’d already apologized.

Still, that didn’t stop him from replying.

Arthur’s lip quirked up in a half-smile.  Maybe he was being a little dramatic.

But then he remembered the mortified look on the gorgeous singing guy’s face and decided he was being perfectly reasonable.

Maybe he should quit answering, he thought.  He was very tired, after all, who knows what he might say that could end up coming back to bite him in the ass.

But still, it felt nice to talk to someone.  

The stranger didn’t reply after a few minutes and Artur briefly panicked, hoping he hadn’t scared him off.  It’s late, he reasoned.  The stranger probably fell asleep, in fact, Arthur had probably woken him up with his angry text.  

Going with that, Arthur got ready for bed as well.  He changed into an old t-shirt and boxers, brushed his teeth and plugged up his phone.  He looked at the screen and was delighted when he saw he had a new message. 

Arthur chuckled a bit; he could tell that the stranger was teasing him, so he decided to tease right back.  He was actually starting to really like this stranger.

His phone buzzed once again as he was settling into bed.  He yawned as he checked the text and replied.

‘ _Call me Arthur,_ ’ He typed out, but deleted it after a second.  The stranger would probably never talk to him again after tonight.  He didn’t know why, but that thought saddened him.  Ignoring the feeling, he simply sent a ‘ _Good night,'_ closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless slumber.


	2. In Which Arthur Lives in the Moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, I feel so bad about this chapter. Cheesy as hell, so I apologize. And I'm going to go ahead and publish before I rewrite this. 
> 
> But before, if anyone is interested in updates about my writing and stuff, then I am on tumblr and updates will be on here: http://omigodstiel.tumblr.com/tagged/sssagat
> 
> Now without further ado, I present to you the second chapter. Enjoy.

The very morning began much differently than the one before.  Having been too busy texting with his stranger, Arthur hadn’t set an alarm, which ended up causing him to get up late, which threw off his schedule completely.  He should have been happy that he wasn’t so late that he’d actually be late for work, but honestly he’d woken up very grumpy and sore and tired.   Not a very pleasant combination, and much less of one for his employees.  He got ready in a rush, not bothering to check his phone or anything, his main focus was getting ready (he’d deny it now, but he’d actually forgotten the stranger he’d spent the night texting, his mind too busy thinking of work and cursing his luck).

So of course, he was fairly surprised when he checked his phone (once he had settled in his office and called his secretary to bring him breakfast) and found he had an unread text.

 

 

Arthur laughed loudly, surprising himself.  The text was completely ridiculous and cheesy, but so simple that it was hilarious.  And what was with that “ay caramba”- who couldn’t laugh at that?  Suddenly, Arthur found himself in higher spirits, much happier than he’d been a minute ago.  Chuckling to himself, he typed a reply and hit send.

 

It’d been over two hours since the stranger had sent the first text, so Arthur wasn’t expecting a response.  Even so, he began to get a bit worried after about ten minutes of no reply.  Especially when he realized that his response sounded a bit mean.  Very mean, actually.  Hell, it sounded as if Arthur didn’t want to continue texting with the stranger, but it was quite the opposite.  He found himself enjoying the exchange of texts, even if they hadn’t been going on for long.  

He logged onto his computer in an effort to distract himself with work (which it didn’t, he was starting to hate himself for not even being able to talk to a stranger without fucking up) when his phone buzzed and he jumped slightly.  

Now, if anyone was to ask him now if he’d lunged for his phone, he’d deny it.  He would also deny sighing in relief after reading the text.  The only thing he wouldn’t deny is spending  (not wasting, he’d say pointedly) around fifteen minutes texting someone he didn’t even know, exchanging jibes with him.

 

Arthur then glanced at his computer, now on his bubbly screensaver, somewhat guilty about being a slacker himself.   But he couldn’t really help it.   He’d done more work than he needed to last night, and it’s not like there was anything urgent he needed to see.  He considered opening his work email, so at least that way it’d look like he was doing something, but his phone buzzed again.

 

‘Does he now?’ Arthur replied.  He couldn’t blame the owner, actually, the stranger was charming in a dorky kind of way.  He did manage to get his email running before the stranger texted back.  He thought about not answering, getting at least a bit of work done.  But go back to teasing a friendly stranger or talk to co-workers about finances?  The choice was simple, really.

 

Arthur felt he might have crossed the line with this, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself.  His curiosity had gotten the best of him, he found himself wanting to know more and more about the stranger.  His name, what he looked like, if he was having a good day so far.

 

He was a bit disappointed with that answer, he’d been expecting more.  Well, not really, but he wanted more.  From what he’d just gotten, he could be texting Morgan Freeman (if Morgan Freeman studied or used emoticons) or Emma Watson.  Then again, they probably wouldn’t have replied to a very aggressive death threat.

 

Well that much was true.  And hell, the stranger said it in such a nice way that Arthur couldn’t even be hurt. If a stranger (that had threatened him, Arthur kept reminding himself) had been asking personal questions he would probably be hesitant to answer as well.  Especially, as the stranger pointed out, if he didn’t know that person’s name. That idea made him feel a bit better, though, because at least that was something he could fix.

 

Immediately after sending his answer, Arthur groaned.  That sounded lame.  And like a creepy come-on.  He tapped his fingers rhythmically on his desk, growing worried when he didn’t receive a ‘yeah, sure!’ after a minute.

He groaned again, when he realized how caught up he was getting about texting a stranger.  He still hadn’t done anything other than open his work email, and that usually took him like a minute any other day. Still when his phone buzzed again, he got excited and continued neglecting his email.

 

His heart dropped and he felt his neck heat up.  No of course not, he thought. He was just some stranger, nothing special.  Why did he expect a positive answer?

“Why do you look as if someone just shot your puppy?”  someone asked in front of him, sounding amused.  He looked up, startled, and saw his sister.

Oh.

Very quickly he hid his phone in his desk drawer, ignoring Morgana’s raised eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” he snapped, embarrassed to have been caught being sad over a text.

“I’ve come bearing gifts,” she answered with a smirk, setting down a pastry bag and a coffee in front of him.  She sat down in the seat across from him and twirled a black curl around a finger.  “Mithian asked me to bring you breakfast, which is why it took so long, sorry about that.”  She smiled. “So?  What’s got you so down, dear brother?”

“ ‘M tired,” he told her, his mouth full of blueberry muffin.

“Oh?  Did you not sleep well?”  She paused, but continued before he could answer.  “Were you perhaps taking my advice and getting laid?”

Last night’s memories came back to him (or at least the ones not involving the stranger that no doubt hated him now) and he glared at her.  He realized he’d forgotten to text her, being too busy trying not to get sued.  Oh well, at least now he could tell her how he felt face to face.

“What the hell makes you think that it’d be alright for you to send a sing-a-gram to my flat at eleven at night just so he could deliver a stupid message from you?”

“I take that as a no?”

“You told the sing-a-gram that he should sing about me getting it on with him,” Arthur hissed.  He put his muffin down, and made a God-help-me-because-I-don’t-want-to-kill-you-except-I-do gesture.  

“Well he was your type,” she said, as if that made it perfectly okay.

“That’s beside the point-”

“So you did like him?” She laughed.  “That’s good, I think you’ll be seeing him again,” she smiled and got up.  “Which reminds me, I also came to tell you that you’re having dinner with Gwen, Lance, Leon, and I on Thursday.”  

“And if I have plans?”

Morgana laughed loudly at that, as if it were the funniest thing ever.  “Oh, dear brother, the last time you had plan was back when I wasn’t dating Leon.  And need I remind you that our anniversary will be coming up in a few weeks.”  Arthur stayed quiet, knowing she was right.  “Arthur, I’m worried about you.”  Her voice had softened, taking on a concerned tone.  “You’re spending all your time working, you have to slow down a bit, enjoy yourself a bit.  Meet someone, have fun, live a little.”

He sighed.  “Okay.  Text me the details later.  I’ve got to get back to work,” he lied.

She chuckled, rolling her eyes.  “Take care of yourself, brother,” she called out, as she walked out of the door.

He might as well try and do work, he mused.  He opened his desk drawer to look for a pen (he did have a stack of paperwork he could sort through) when he realized he had unread texts.  It was probably the stranger telling him to sod off, he thought.  Or Morgana, already sending him the details, he considered, as he unlocked his phone.

 

Arthur almost laughed out loud in relief.  He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  Once again, a simple text from a stranger had managed to cheer him up immensely.  He shut his desk drawer, forgetting his search for a pen and pushing aside thoughts of paperwork.

 

It hadn’t taken him long to think of the name Roi.  He’d taken a bit of French in his earlier years and there’d always been a running joke between him and his friends on how he’d been named after a king.  And now Arthur was pleased that the stranger-  Ambrosius- wanted to know about him.  Which basically meant that he didn’t hate Arthur and that he wanted to keep talking to him.  He laughed quietly, overjoyed about making a new friend.

Suddenly a thought crossed his mind-  what if the stranger was only talking to him so he could take advantage of him?  He frowned.  It wouldn’t be the first time someone had done something like that, he shuddered thinking about his exes (he never could stand thinking about Sophia or Vivian or fucking Valiant).

He soon realized that that worry had made him wary of Ambrosius.  Sure there was nothing suspicious about him or his texts, but then again there had been nothing suspicious about his exes.  Then again, his decisions had been a bit clouded by the sex he’d been having.  

However when his phone buzzed again, and an excited smile grew on his lips, Arthur realized that he really didn't care.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha, so I couldn't handle the original ending (a product of being up at 11 at night) so I an extra line to what was originally the second to last paragraph and deleted the last paragraph all together... and it's a lot better.


End file.
